Alchemic recipes
by MaMa HedgeHog
Summary: They're both successful, independent,they haven't seen each other in ten years and they're both married...to each other. Not to mention he could've sworn he'd just heard her say she wanted to recreate the sorceror's stone.My my what a conundrum. Adventure
1. Chapter 1

_The fingers threading through his hair made him feel so good, smoothing the reminiscence of his headache away. They were soft hands, female hands. Massaging his throbbing temples and exerting exquisite pressure on his over-heated scalp. Long fingers through his hair, sliding down to exert the same lovely pressure on the nape of his neck. He groaned and let his head fall back in wordless pleasure. The soft cool thumbs were making circle on his nape, and moving down to the base of his neck. Then she added more fingers and pressed a little more, little pleasure points, those fingers were…he murmured his absolute ecstasy and let his eyes close. Who'd have thought a neck rub could be so blissful? The finger were now sliding lightly at the sides of his neck, forward on the hollow of his throat, while the thumb rubbed circles on the back…then a little more pressure. He was almost sleepy, in a world of afterglow without sex, till the pressure increased once more. He eyes opened, the glassy grey clearing. But before he could gain his bearings the exquisite hands became claws, and pressed into his wind-pipe, effectively cutting his wind-supply. His body thrashed violent as he tried to lift his hands, but to his horror, they were tied behind his back…the claws didn't loosen their vice-like grip until suddenly he opened his mouth to hear his raspy voice trying to scream. Nobody heard, nobody came in. Then suddenly he felt cool lips on the shell of his ear, he struggled more wildly. The lips slid down his ear till they reached the ear-flap. He heard the harsh breathing in his ear and then "die…"a hoarse whisper. He stilled._

"_DIEEEEEEE!!"_

The man in the black suit put his parker down and massaged his sore neck, and read over the paragraph he'd just jotted down on the napkin. He didn't know why he wrote like this, on napkins and tablecloths and the underwear he sometimes left lying about. There really wasn't any point. He tried to imagine what his fellow uptight board partners would think if they found out he liked to write lame serial-killing murder mysteries with lots of hot sex. They'd probably try to boot him out of the board meetings. But then again, they probably wouldn't dare…he did have a reputation as a cold and unapproachable bastard--that is, when he wasn't writing romantic murder mysteries on his underwear and tablecloths and…what not. It drove his house-keeper crazy.

"Please buckle your seat-belts" the smooth voice of the air-hostess, through the microphone, interrupted his thoughts "we'll be landing in 5 minutes. Please buckle your seat-belts"

He buckled his seat-belt and smirked to himself, trying to imagine the reaction of his fellow class-mates and teachers to him flying in air-plane. He enjoyed it a lot, and frankly, in his line of work he had to. In the past ten years he'd flown so much that sometimes he thought he should be dangling form an air-plane. He'd even bought himself a jet, but this time he wanted to use a public air-line, for the sake of old times.

The pressure in the plane rose, as it lowered near the ground, still in a dive, then the wheels touched the ground with a mild jerk. He felt a moment of apprehension. He was returning to England after ten years, right after he , literally fled form his life…and his wife. And now she was calling him back, requesting his presence. He hadn't heard from her in ten years. Heard of her, though. It'd be downright weird if he had not. After all she was one of the most renowned, brilliant and shrewd businesswomen in their time. Secondly she managed the entire the England division of his company, and without his help at all. It was hers in all but name. He didn't think she'd be able to…I mean don't get him wrong and all, he believed in female ability and shit but managing a budding empire at the age of twenty and keeping it at the top of the market was exceptionally tough. There were times even he felt like breaking down and crying very manly and utterly masculine tears because of his hell-sent uptight board partners. He'd signed it all over to her, the night he fled and taken control over the American division. He had been in a frenzy, she had been in utter shock. Even in those frantic moment when he was desperately trying to take control of his life, he'd enjoyed being able to shock her speechless. And he'd made the best decision of his life, They'd both been so young, life in utter chaos by their sudden marriage to each other. Twenty and married without a choice, definitely not the best situation in life.

The plane finally stopped on ground and he squished all his miniscule apprehensions, collected his luggage, and then he strolled down, feeling God-like and the potent adoring eyes of the air-hostesses(and some stewards too..). It was time, to finally face what he'd left behind. _Hold your breaths_….

Draco Malfoy was back.

88888888888888888

She stood in front of the glass doors of her office. The rain was violent. Violent and perfect for the day…and unsurprisingly her mood. It was past mid-night and the office was alarmingly empty and dark. The building was and the only light was the lightning outside. She should've been at the manor hours ago, but she hadn't wanted to go. Her office was her sanctuary, her comfort zone. It was truly pathetic that she considered her office as the 'me' zone of her life. It was even more pathetic that she was, being cowardly and hiding in said comfort zone so she wouldn't have to face _HIM. _The six foot one male atrocity also known as her husband, _alias_ Draco Malfoy. She mentally shuddered.

_Thank GOD she hadn't changed her last name…_

The last time she had seen him, ten years ago, he'd been civil to her, but indifferent. They'd lived together for only six months allotted time and then he had fled. She had been shocked. Utterly. But after it had gone through her then-thick skull that he had left and left her the CEO of the company, she had been ABSOLUTELY ecstatic. But ten years was long time and now, she yearned for other things to do. To return to what she loved most. Research. There was nothing worth improving about Malfoy pharmaceuticals inc anymore. She'd brought it to its maximum potential, to its absolute pinnacle and for the lack of a better way to put it, she was bored now. She had new ideas. New ideas that were radical at best and that's why she needed Malfoy's presence, even while she was avoiding it like the plague. These radical new ideas needed a radically scandalous amount of funds for research and even though she had full control over England division, she couldn't extract that much without at least letting Malfoy's opinion be heard. But that didn't mean she was happy about it. Besides the expansion ideas were very risqué with horrifying chances of failure.

Carrie Underwood's voice suddenly jostled her out of her musings. She glanced at her cell-phone, blankly, for a second. Then snatched it from the table, and looked at the number. It was from the manor, more specifically her house-keeper, Mara. She answered with a questioning "Hello?'

"Ma'am?"

She rolled her eyes "Obviously"

"Your husband has arrived ma'am"

Her countenance stilled and for ten second she remained quiet until Mara's esteemed "MA'AM??"

She winced, but otherwise didn't react to the very loud address.

"I'll be there in about half-an-hour. Give him whatever he wants. Tea or dinner or whatever"

"Very well Ma'am"

She clicked her phone off and looked at the addicting muggle contraption. It was ridiculous, the amount of trouble she went to, to get her phone functioning in the Wizarding world.

_Ahh…the basic necessities of life._

She walked to the closet connected to her office. She kept some clothes in her office, in case she needed a morale-boost on her down days, or in case she spend the night in her office…yes she was _THAT MUCH _of an workcoholic. An amused grin curled on her lips. She knew for a fact Malfoy did the same thing. She had been stunned when she'd learned that.

She selected a red silk blouse to replace her peach one. _Damn the wonders colours can do for my confidence._

From the brightness of that red, one thing was terrifyingly clear. Hermione Granger really needed that morale-boost tonight…to face her own personal devil's spawn.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR"S NOTE: Just so you all know, I'm not a good update-er. And my exams are, like, a month away so I'll be late all the time…sorry…but I'll try my best to finish it as soon as I can…ciao...and enjoy!!**

"May I get you something, sir?"

Draco glanced from his position on the couch to see a young woman in a maid's uniform. She sounded polite enough, but the expression on her face belied her curiosity. He savored a moment of amusement before shaking his head

"No thank you. Are you new to Malfoy manor?"

"No sir, I've been working for Ms. Granger for the past five years," she smiled "she's the most generous employer"

"What happened to the house-elves?"

She looked at him, curiously "Why Ms. Granger sent them to work at Hogwarts!"

He stared at her. _Damned woman._ "Thank you, you may leave"

Mara nodded and demonstrated her perfected manners by dropping a small curtsy. Draco rolled his eyes. She left, sliding the parlor doors after her. Draco returned to his careful observation on the select few changes around the parlor-room. The old, downright Slytherin chandelier had obviously been replaced. Hermione had hated the old one…well more like, she had been disgusted by it. She probably replaced it after his parents had moved to Germany, permanently. His father wouldn't have let it go, otherwise.

Draco adjusted the lapels of his dark suit and caught his reflection at the mirror panels on either side if the fire-place. He winced at the state of his eyes. Even in his best black-on-black attire, his eyes gave his fatigue away. He walked to the corner of the bar, to a small fridge. He took a few cubes of ice and dropped it in a crystal-glass, and another single ice-cube, he wrapped in his napkin and dabbed it against his eye, while pouring whiskey in the glass. After thirty seconds of dabbing, his eyes felt a little less tired and looked a lot less swollen. Satisfied, held the glass to his lips and swallowed a big gulp. Then he cursed under his breath violently, and looked at the bottle,closely. _Damned __Muggle whiskey burns…figures._

Draco did feel more himself again. Being in England brought all sorts of unsavory memories back. Namely, the horror of his imposed marriage.

Distantly, he heard the sound of the door closing and the ding of the grandfather clock. It was close to midnight now. The fire in the room had dimmed, casting shadows all over. The wine-red couches darkened to look more inviting. He resisted the urge to sink into the soft cushions. He wanted to stand. It gave him the advantage of height over his intimidating chit of a wife, who at 5'5" managed to make grown men feel like 5 year-old idiots. The confidant click of expensive pumps on Russian marble floor, told him, Granger hadn't outgrown the strike-fear-in-the-hearts'-of-men tendencies.Yes; he needed the advantage. Then there was a pause, he heard the murmur of low female voices. An elegant hand grasped the side of the partially open door, and slid it open. First a black, sheer stocking-ed, pencil-skirt clad leg stepped in, expensive pumps and all. In under just a second a female body joined its leg. A brown-haired, brown-eyed female, otherwise known as his wife. The Hermione Granger. Know-it-all extraordinaire. And without a doubt, this Granger was all grown up.

When he had left England, he had left a skinny slip of 20 year old girl. She had been pretty, but unremarkable. He didn't like pretty, but he did like her spunk. He scrutinized her. Her make-up was bold, even if minimal. She hadn't grown into a beauty, but she was very attractive, in a sexy way. And full of attitude and confidence and a polite, scathingly sarcastic countenance. He supposed that might have been the result of seeing too much too young. Of being a war hero at eighteen and having to get married at twenty as a sacrifice. Marrying a hated, dreaded Malfoy. A Malfoy who, himself had been nothing more than a mere boy.

She had filled out nicely. She wasn't slender, very curvy. Shapely legs, curved waist, pretty bosom. Her tailored-suit didn't hide much, didn't show much. If it hadn't been Granger he'd be checking her out, without any hesitation. But it was Granger, his much-ignored wife. She was a sexy Granger though, he thought detachedly.

He grinned at her.

"Malfoy" she greeted him, politely

"Granger" he smile grew wider…only to make her uncomfortable "how do you do, wife dear?"

She smiled stonily. It didn't take a genius to know that she wasn't impressed by his husbandly concerns.

"Very well, thank you"

He held out his arms mockingly "What, no hug for your long-missed husband?"

"I'm positively dying to do more than give you a hug, love" she positively crooned "how does a tumble in the bedroom sound?"

He laughed, genuinely. Granger had lost none of her amusing wit.

"As interesting as it sounds," he drawled "do tell me why I flew half the world to make your inspiring, _lovely, _acquaintance?"

"Not that I'm complaining." Draco added as an after-thought

"I'm flattered _darling, _and, in time, I'll tell you everything." she said, twisting her lips in a hideous imitation of a loving smile.(to which he grimaced...mentally,of course) "do sit down."

He promptly sat down, and waited for her to join him. She didn't. Instead she walked around the couch in a circle, no doubt, in an attempt to intimidate him. It didn't work, and _instead _ he leaned back on the couch and stared-_yes STARED-_ at her, mentally scoffing at her for thinking he'd be intimidated by 5'5" feet(oh well 5'7" with the addition of heels) formally attired little thing. He did, however notice the becoming stretch of red-silk against her bosom…not that it had anything to do with well…anything.

Oh well, he sighed internally, time-over playing the teasing husband. It was time to bring Malfoy-scary 'BBB'(bastardly brilliant businessman) out to play. Two could play this game.

888888888888888888888888888888888

Hermione could almost hear Malfoy's thoughts, when she saw him stiffen his posture slightly. It was so subtle, she almost missed it. Almost. Gone was the guy who had been grinning scarily at her. This was the man. The man who was the vice-president of Malfoy pharmaceuticals America. His manner turned cool and professional. She stared directly into his eyes. They positively cackled with challenge. She suppose she should run from the room. She didn't. Instead she felt thrilled. She loved being challenged and provoked. This would be a fun…until she told him why she called him back…which meant it really wouldn't be fun for very long. She mentally did her girl pout. The one that no one knew about. Because if they did, they'd be killed in their own beds.

"You don't sound like a man who's lived in the U.S for ten years," she remarked, "how come?"

She expected him to tell her to get to the point. He disappointed her by merely shrugging. And she knew, at that very moment, her mission, for the remainder of his stay would be to catch him off-guard. She wanted to rub her hands together and cackle in glee. She grabbed the whiskey decanter in front of her and poured herself a glass, then gracefully, sat down on the couch in front of him like a queen. The she resumed studying him over the rim of the glass, and made sure he knew exactly what she was doing. Malfoy looked right back. And like everything, this also became a matter of willful battle between them. She wasn't about to lose by ceasing her observation.

He, truly was a handsome man. Much more than he'd been at twenty. At thirty, he had a strength about his face, that he lacked at twenty. His skin was no longer a pasty pale, but a healthy sort of pale. His chin was still a little pointed, but because of the lines on his face, it didn't look out of place. His hair was the same white-blond, loosely cut. It was about, the only thing casual about the man, contrasting sharply with his formal, dark image. His eyes were the same indecipherable grey. Hermione abruptly understood why women stood gaping at his portrait and occasional newspaper shots, slack-jawed. She mentally laughed at them. They always started scattering about when they glimpsed her coming, even though everyone knew that the couple were estranged, had been for a very long time.

Draco and Hermione didn't meet each other, didn't talk to each other. They lived in different countries. _Hell _they lived in different continents! They didn't even share last names. They gave a new meaning to the words 'estranged couple'. They didn't show any emotion towards each other's absence, none what-so-ever. Suffice to say, when Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy did something, they did it right and they did it all the way.

She put her glass down. He raised an infernal eye-brow.

"Do you want to get to the subject at hand anytime soon?" he questioned mildly.

"Curious?"

He smirked. "Not as much as you'd like me to be"

She picked up her glass and took a delicate sip. He looked at her, amusedly. She was stalling. She knew it. He knew it. She inhaled deeply. He smirked. _Bastard!_

_Okay enough!_

"Have you looked into the financial position of England's branch?"

"Not really," he looked at her, curiously "I was under the impression that its on stable ground"

"That's true, but there is a problem"

"There is? Really?"

She nodded, "It's been on stable ground on the past five years"

He raised _his damned eye-brow AGAIN _"And how is that a problem?"

"There has been no breakthrough product in the English division in the past _six _years!"

"ooo-k-ay, so that's what it's all about"

She glared at him "There's no need to be patronizing!"

He smirked. The beastly man was enjoying her agitation. She calmed herself.

"I want to create new grounds for research" she gritted through her teeth. She really was trying to be calm. He just _infuriated _her.

"That's your call, Granger, I handed over this branch to you" he had finally stopped smirking,. This time he looked serious.

She felt warm pride diffusing her irritation. But the feeling was diffused by ice-cold water when she remember she hadn't told him about the research.

" The thing is, the research grounds are radical, extremely so"

"I see," he frowned "how radical?"

"I've been studying alchemy for quiet a few years," she said, feeling a little uneasy at what she was to say now "all of its angles, especially it's meta-physical, spiritual and chemical properties. I have even talked to a few experts on the subject"

He nodded, presumably wondering why this was relevant. She continued with her litany.

"Recently though I've focused, mostly on the medicinal advantages in alchemy. Alchemy is a vague subject, muggles have discarded it in favor of chemistry." she was excited now, really getting into it "they didn't make any major break-through, because, you see, alchemy is incomplete without magic. But we can do something!"

"And what is the something?"he asked her attentively and quietly.

It was now or never.

"Just remember, I've carefully thought this through and I'm not insane" she shifted in her seat, and paused. he was getting a teeny bit impatient. She could see it, and it made a feel just a little better.

"I want to re-create the Philosopher's stone"

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE: I am aware that the chapter is a little abrupt,but I'm new, so be nice!!constructive advice will be appreciated, provided it's given nicely.Next chappy is probably gonna take a leeetle bit longer. Again..pleease review(puppy dog eyes)**


	3. Chapter 3

Nineteen years ago

**AUTHOR's NOTE: Okay, some of the fights and arguments are too soon..but , do remember, all of this has been ten years in the making. Old resentments and accusations. I have to get their old issues out of the way to start new issues The little scenes from the past will continue throughout the story. I haven't decided if they're going to be random or uniform. One more thing, there will be definite fluctuations in the mood. They won't always be murderous. Sometimes the mood will be serious. I do think humor is a crucial part of story, but there will be angst…Enjoy!!**

**Nineteen years ago**

Eleven-year-old Hermione Granger, looked closely at the shelves stocked with forbidden books. Most of the books in the restricted section were untitled. She was very careful not to touch them. Harry had told her, earlier, that the books screamed. He had also told her it wasn't a safe place to be, since Filch could catch students anytime. But ever since she'd read about Nicholas Flamel and the philosopher's stone, she couldn't get it out of her head. She needed to know about the philosopher's stone.

Hermione's head whipped around when she heard the sound of giggling. Eyes wide as saucers, she dropped to the ground and crawled. The whispered voices moved closer. She felt terrified. She didn't want to be discovered, she didn't want to get expelled!

_Oh my god! The voices were closer!_

Hermione curled her small body as tightly as she could, and listened carefully. She tried to breathe carefully. Then she tried not to breathe at all. She couldn't. So she took long, slow breaths, and even then the volume of her breathing sounded deafening to her. The whispered voices seemed a little lower in volume. Then they grew even more distant. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

_This was dangerous _and Hermione would be stupid to stay out tonight. And Hermione was anything but stupid. No matter how desperate she was, to learn about the philosopher's stone. So regretfully, she sneaked out of the library and shot off to the Gryffindor tower, heart pumping fearfully. She didn't go back to the restricted section that year again.

**PRESENT TIME**

Malfoy gaped at her like a fish out of water. This, in turn, made her feel like the greatest fisherman-ermm-woman alive.

He sat at the edge of the couch, still looking at her, weirdly. Ten seconds later she wasn't feeling all that great anymore. She stared at him. He was giving her the you-crazy-foolish-deranged-woman look. It made her nervous. And Hermione Granger was never nervous. _NEVER._ She was a regular sneering, smug, bossy, know-it-all B-worded business person. She didn't do nervous. _She didn't want nervous!_

She was bloody nervous.

"Malfoy?" she squeaked. _Damnit, she didn't mean to squeak! _"MALFOY??"

Hermione squinted her eyes at him, trying to decipher any hint of emotion. She always did this. It was one of those thing that being a businesswoman had taught her. It trained her to be observant; to notice details; prey on weaknesses; and then swoop in for the kill. It always freaked the hell out of Harry, when she stared at him with 'squinty-eyes'. It was a damned pity that she couldn't say the same for Malfoy.

He sat there, with an incredulous look on his face. Then he changed his posture, just a little, enough to warn her that his silence was over. She braced herself, feeling like a Scottish highlander marching to a battle.

_Too many romance novels! Bad girl, Hermione! Baaad girl!_

"Are you bloody INSANE? The _PHILOSOPHER's _stone??"

Hermione grimaced at his tone. He had probably forgotten she wasn't deaf.

_That's it, be defiant, confidant and logical. He'll come around….hopefully._

"I just told you I've been researching it!" she huffed "besides you haven't listened to my entire idea."

"OHH, there's more!" he retorted…sarcastically "do tell, It is just the thing to die of a heart-attack, it makes me feel soo much better"

Hermione felt a moment of unadulterated pleasure that came with the picture of Malfoy having a hear attack while she, gleefully, stood looking down at his agonized, writhing form. Maybe that's how she'd kill him, _AFTER _she got what she wanted. The thought of a Malfoy's death in his near-future made her future look a little less bleak. She must've looked as happy as she felt at the dire thoughts. Malfoy gave a distinct Umbridge like cough and glared at her as if her knew exactly what she was thinking.

She gave him a sweet smile. Full of teeth and fangs and all.

"Tell me," he bit out, from between clenched teeth. _His teeth were so white. It was positively blinding!_ And they said, she was the dentist's daughter "do you know what kind of chaos the whole of Wizarding world will descend to if they found out about the re-creation of the philosopher's stone?"

He looked pissed…kind-off "Do you know, anything about what happened the last time the stone was created?"

Now this was really too much. The bloody imbecile was treating her like...like…like an IMBECILE!

Of course she knew, she was there! But then again, he didn't know that. Besides she just knew, it wouldn't be a good time to tell him. So she tried to cut off the question by answering it in half.

"Of course I know! I told you I've-"

"No I think you don't," he cut her off, rudely "for God's sake, Granger, you want to re-create the elixir of life. That's one of the best ways to starting a sodding war! Do you have any idea what'll happen if dark-wizards catch a wind of this?"

Turns out, it was a rhetoric question. Didn't require an answer

"Malfoy, list-"

"I mean it, Granger, didn't peg you for an idi-"

"Don't finish that sentence if you treasure your manhood, Malfoy" Hermione snapped, impetuously " IF YOU'RE GOING TO ASK QUESTIONS, WAIT FOR ANSWERS!"

He shut up, and leaned back on his seat, in an effort to look relaxed. his eyes, were all grey and observing her closely. It was amazing, how the man could transcend from glaring to staring. It was unnerving. But she wouldn't be unnerved.

_Another deep breath…_

"Yes, I _know _what the re-creation of the stone can do, and _YES, _I do know what happened nineteen years ago!"

"Then-"

She threw him a glare to cut him off. Then she continued.

"There's a reason I want to do this," her voice was quieter, "Malfoy the stone has the ability to become a cure for _EVERY _disease. How can I let that kind of cure not be investigated, when I see people die of ailments with no cure, every-damn-day"

_She had to make him understand!_

"Malfoy, I've seen death. I may run one of the biggest Wizarding branches, but that doesn't stop me form seeing monstrous, painful deaths."

It broke her heart that she saw, but it was a morbid fascination. She could not NOT see. She couldn't stop herself from going to muggle hospitals and see death. She got sick, every time, but she couldn't stop.

He was still sitting quietly. Thoughtfully.

"God, Malfoy I need to this!"

Hermione let desperation color her voice, and she waited with bated breath.

"Granger," his voice was awkwardly compassionate "we live in the Wizarding world, we have a cure for almost anything"

"But Muggles don't!" her voice was high, too emotional, but she was beyond caring "and I am a muggle, I care!"

She sounded like a bloody philanthropist. And in the recess of her mind she knew she hated the fact that Malfoy has seen this awkward side of her. The compressed need to leave her life behind, and give someone else something. He might've been her husband, but she didn't need know him at all. But he was the one, she needed to convince. Life was ironic that way.

At long last he nodded.

"I understand" he looked a trifle unruffled, as if he was confused. She knew that he _didn't _understand.

"I don't agree…yet" he ploughed on "I need to talk to the people, you talked to, to study the subject, to understand the philosopher's stone."

She felt an abject amazement that Malfoy actually studied the medicine before giving the get-go. The amazement was ridden over by the feeling of relief. At least he was willing to listen.

"There's another reason you're here" Hermione felt relieved, now. The next part was going to be easier. "I'm giving up control of the England division, I want you to take it"

888888888888888888888888888888

She had shocked him. Again. If she'd told him she was pregnant, it couldn't have shocked him more. _This was getting old! _He couldn't let the bloody chit surprise him again and again.

"NO"

The denial was imminent, automatic. Natural, even. Draco couldn't stay in England. He _WOULDN'T! _The U.S was his home now. He belonged there. He didn't even recognize England anymore.

"Granger, your trying my extent of generosity"

She looked unconcerned at his vengeful denials. Bloody woman had gained back her composure and returned to residing like the queen. She picked up her glass and sipped again. He wanted to rattle her. Just like she had, five minutes ago, with her uncharacteristic desperation. Who would've thought she cared that much?

Besides if had said 'NO' to that, he would've looked like a bastard! Not that he cared. But he couldn't abide by the same sentiment when it came to being known as a muggle-hater. _Been there, done that._

"No, Granger" he emphasized "I'm NOT staying in England." More emphasis.

"I want to work on the stone," this time she emphasized "_MYSELF."_

Draco snorted. Then he caught himself. He must've look horrified at the snort, because Granger's mouth curled in amusement. Damnit all to hell! He didn't snort. He looked at her, resentfully before getting back to his rampant 'NO's'

But he felt a distinct relief, that they were back on comfortable ground again. She was making fu-_not making fun_-being a brat and he was putting her in her place…as usual. He liked the sound of that. Too bad he knew it was a lie. Now, that was just sad.

"I haven't even agreed to the idea"

" 'yet' is the key-word, Husband"

"And what if I say 'no' to the stone?"

She sighed. " Then I'm going to leave the company, to join W-M pharmaceuticals"

He knew W-M pharmaceuticals. Full form: Wizarding-Muggle pharmaceuticals, oh knew them. The bloody firm was run by the she-weasel—err—Potter. It was a fairly new company. Successful, though not on the Malfoy scale. He also knew Granger would find instant employment there. Firstly, because she was Granger. Secondly because she...well…Granger. _Any _firm would be fortunate to have her, she was a brilliant businesswoman.

"You can't join them! This is your company"

She inspected her nails till he almost growled. Almost.

"Technically, it's yours."

"So tell me," he demanded "your gonna go, run the she-weasel's firm and leave mine??"

She looked offended.

"I'm not going to run it, you dolt. I'm going to go there as Head of research"

"Does Potter know what you want to research?" he asked, snidely. Granger brought out the worst in Draco. It was pathetic, how she could force him to voice his juvenile inner-most thoughts.

She looked at him, coolly. "of course"

Granger was a good liar, Draco would give her that. But he knew Potter. And from what he knew of Potter, he knew, idiot Potter may be, but he would never agree to Granger's somewhat half-baked ideas.

So he scoffed at her, to her face "Liar."

All of a sudden, she looked tired. It alarmed him. her upheld shoulders drooped just a little, enough to know that she was lowering just a little of her guard

'Malfoy, research is what I've always wanted to do."

She reached down, and eased her left foot out of her pumps, then she did the same with her other foot. Absently, while rubbing the balls of her feet, she continued in the same uncharacteristic tired voice.

"You left England, left me with your company to run," she sat back onto the sofa "I had an obligation and I carried it out for ten years. I did it because you left me responsible"

"Are you telling-"

"Don't get me wrong, I loved the work, but there were times I felt I loved it, only because I had no choice but to do so. You took my choice away when you left. So I forgot what wanted to do and gave myself to the company. And I loved it, every moment of it. But now I want to do something I'm really good at."

Granger was good at running companies. Why this? Why now? The woman was trying to do his best in making him feel guilty. Truthfully, when he left England he'd thought of no one but himself. The war had left his family crippled. Him, a pariah. It didn't matter that the Malfoy's had withdrawn form the dark side, and helped the Order. To the people, it was too little, too late. He needed to escape and so when he could, that's exactly what he did. He escaped, made a new name for Malfoy and left their English Malfoy image to his estranged wife. The ministry might've gotten them married, but they couldn't make them stay together, after six months of their unconsummated marriage. That knowledge, alone, had been his lifeline. Between the awkwardness that he and Granger had harbored towards each other and the acute helplessness that had usually broken into terrible fights. They wanted to hurt each other, but, they didn't know each other enough to do that. So at the end of the day, both of them had had to go to bed dissatisfied, alone and angry. Those were terrible days. To this day, he still wondered, why neither of them had filed for annulment.

Probably because things had become comfortable for them. They lived apart, didn't have to interact. He had his own love-life and so, he was sure, did she. Their marriage had a become a regency-esque marriage. A marriage built for convenience.

Draco was exhausted, and his head felt heavy. He stood up, then he extended his hand towards Granger, out of common courtesy. She accepted his hand and moved off the couch to stand beside him.

"Let me think on it, k? It's all to sudden"

She nodded her acquiescence "I'll go to bed, I have a meeting with the AWD tomorrow."

"I'll bunk in my old room, just a little later"

She walked to the Chinese doors, slowly. He poured himself another glass of whiskey and turned to the fire.

"Oh and Malfoy?"

He looked back at her. She gave him a brittle smile.

"Welcome back."


	4. Chapter 4

EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO

**EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO**

Twelve year old, Draco Malfoy sat in front of the dungeon fire-place. Contrary to popular belief, the Slytherin common room wasn't that big of a drafty, cold place. Sure they were a lot of things that looked dark, like the door-knobs and silver serpent adorned chandeliers, just like the one the Malfoys had in their manor. He didn't mind dark. He wasn't scared, sitting alone in the dark. His father had taught him not to be afraid of the dark. Not to be afraid of anything at all. Because if he was, he'd be shaming himself and his family. He always tried to keep his family name above reproach.

_Malfoys never show their displeasure publicly._

But, today, he had shamed them. In front of the Gryffindor's, no less. He felt an acute guilt. He shouldn't have called her Mudblood. His father had told him not to show their opinions in public like that. But he did. He'd flaunted his pure-blood. She was of no consequence. It was his reputation. He didn't want anyone to think that he would do something ugly as uttering curse words to a fellow class-mate. A female class-mate. His father would punish him. Not by raising his hand, never by hand. His father loved him too much for that. But it was his disappointed gaze on Draco that punished him. Something inside young Draco ached if, ever his father looked at him, disappointed. It was, surely, the most painful retribution.

He tried to uphold his family honor. Only next time he'd make sure he wouldn't fail.

**PRESENT TIME**

Hermione tried to keep her eyes closed against the blasted light flittering from the windows. But she couldn't. She couldn't, for the life of her remember, why she'd replaced the former dark curtains with white. The sun felt too bright. She pried her eyes open. The sun was too bright, playing havoc with her head.

She squinted at her bed-side clock. An exquisite antique clock that her mother had given her, on her wedding day. It was 6:00. Hermione groaned loudly and let her head fall back into the pillows. After tossing and turning till the wee hours into the dawn, replaying her and Malfoy's conversation, finally, she'd fallen into a restless sleep, only to wake up before her alarm had even gone off. His first day in England and she was already losing sleep. She wondered when she'd start losing her hair.

She had to get up, start getting ready. The AWD meetings, were in two hours, and she had to go over her representation again. Even though she was the CEO of Malfoy Pharmaceuticals England, and product representations wasn't usually her forte, there were projects that she, still deemed too sensitive to be handled by anyone else. Sitting with the AWDppened to be one of those projects. AWD was a breach organization, a cross-over between magical and muggle healing. Normally, Malfoy Pharmaceuticals didn't extend their products to the organization, but a Malfoy wasn't running this place anymore. And before she actively resigned her post, she'd make sure that all the proposals to the AWD were sanctioned through.

She just hoped Malfoy didn't notice her slip last night, when she told him she had a meeting with the AWD. The AWD that she needed to pursue and convince and, if necessary, compel to release Wizarding healing concoctions in the muggle world. There were a lot of resources that Malfoy Pharmaceuticals had, and the wheels that the new-and-improved Malfoy name could grease was staggering. Lucky for her, even though she didn't carry the name, she was recognized as a Malfoy. Being a war veteran, Hermione Granger , Harry Potter's best friend, CEO of England division and the elusive Draco Malfoy's estranged wife made her a formidable figure. A recognition she used in abundance to sway people's opinion to get them where she wanted. Usually in relation to unusual and dangerous, but, effective medicine. And she was positive that she had to use her influence extensively, in this case. The AWD, though not a very old organization, was powerful and very selective about the supplies they wanted to release into the other side. And the potions she would be pushing for, were a very complex brew for controlling genetic anemia. Genetic anemia, wasn't usually detected before birth. But with this potion an expecting mother could find out of her baby was anemic and it would prolong life-expectancy, if the individual was given a medical diagnosis at birth. Precaution, Hermione had learned the hard way, was most definitely cure. The concoction would be priceless in sub-Saharan area. It would be questioned in the muggle world, no doubt about it, but the effect of the potion, itself, was undeniable. Now all that was left was the breach organization's compliance before Malfoy found out.

Hermione sighed. It would be a long day, and she'd better start working on getting the best of the best of the day. She delicately pushed herself off the bed and started with practiced gait, traced her way to her closet, picked out a slate-gray suit and skirt, black silken blouse, laid it down on the bed and with the same practice gait, made her way to the bathroom. Now this was routine…

8888888888888888888888888888888

Draco had a hangover. A vengeful, bitch of a hangover. His eyes felt swollen and his tongue felt woolly and thick. His throat was scratchy and unbearably dry. His head was a throbbing mess. To top it all off, his be felt different. Instead of dark silk sheets that he usually used, he felt the heat of soft cotton under his seemingly bruised and broken body. He pried his stinging eyes open.

"Oh HOLY MERLIN!"

He snapped them close, hard enough to glue them, shut. Blasted light had taken residence in his bedroom. Who, the hell, had opened the curtains? He turned over to his other side, with care, and inhaled large gasps of air to relieve some of the perpetual dryness of his parched throat. After a few gulps, Draco slowly opened his eyes, and this time he kept them open. Slowly, he took in his surroundings. He wasn't in his room, at least not the one he had been sleeping for the last decade.

With that vague, deformed idea in his mind, he, painfully managed to remember that he was in the Malfoy manor. With deliberate care, he rose off the bed, so as not to cause any jerky moments which might result in the permanent dysfunction of his brain. Then his second blurry thought included a Granger in skirt and pumps. Which led to another thought. Unfortunately, this thought was a clear as fresh rain. The philosopher's stone. He groaned loudly, his already throbbing head, started a heavy pounding. What he needed now, was cold, _COLD _shower. He wished he hadn't wiped the whiskey decanter clean. He wished he'd just come to bed right after Granger left the room. He wished he'd never come back to England to listen to his Granger of a wife's crazy ideas. Most of all, he wished he wasn't wasted, so he could kill that minx. Before she could kill him for breaking her vase.

He dragged himself to the connecting bathroom and blearily stared at himself in the mirror. He looked a fright, though not even half as frightful he felt. It was all _HER _fault. She was trying to kill him with her crazy ideas. He didn't understand how a 30-year-old businesswoman, namely Hermione Granger, could come up with some radical research quest which could get her killed. Then he remembered. She was probably the only one who would. He roughly pushed the shower curtains aside, and twisted the knob then stuck his head inside.

"ahh...peace"

The cold water eased the pressure in his head. He quickly divested himself off his sweat pants and t-shirt, and stood under the water spray. The cold water hit him hard, but he welcomed the awareness that it brought on his previously frazzled nerves. He drove his hand through the wet strands of his hair and thought of the mistake he'd made not saying in how he wasn't for the re-creation. He should've shot it down, when she brought it up. He should've left it to Potter to deal with his mad best-friend. But he couldn't, not at that moment, at least. Out of guilt, he just couldn't. Whatever she'd said, last night, about him leaving her with no choice was true. He knew, unconsciously, she wouldn't abandon a responsibility like Malfoy Pharmaceuticals. And that's why he hadn't thought twice about it, when he decided to withdraw the necessary capital to re-establish the American Branch after the war, hand her the power of attorney and leave for U.S. Hermione Granger would never balk at the first sign of responsibility. And that's why it bothered that she would leave this company to chase some mad-hatter idea. She was too smart to do that. He hoped. He really hoped. And then before he could stop himself he as good as promised her he'd look it over, take her proposal into consideration. He would, but he doubted that would make him less skeptic about the sorcerer's stone. He'd seen a enough greed to last him a life-time. In war and in business. He'd be damned if add to it. He would convince her to give it up _and _to keep running the company. He had to.

He swiftly got out of the shower and tied a towel around his waist. He entered the room, flipped open the flap of his suit-case and groped for a random set of clothes. He'd grown used to muggle clothes, in fact that's all he wore now. He hadn't worn robes in years. He'd learn quickly that Americans preferred their muggle world's customs. And he was surprised to find out, so did he. It was more logical and practical. Made life easier. He 'd rather be killed by a scratching cat, before he came back to England to stay for good. Getting Granger to stop from carrying out her threats had become a hell lot more important. For the good of the Wizarding world and, more importantly for his own. He gritted his teeth. He had to bring in reinforces. Draco had never thought he'd see the day when he'd be thankful for the existence of sainted Potter and side-kick Weasley.

He cursed, colorfully.

8888888888888888888888888888888

Hermione collected her presentation papers , and neatly placed them in her slim case. She supposed she was ready as she'd ever be, for her meeting. With both Draco and AWD. She still had a few hours before the meeting. Now she needed to keep Malfoy out of her way. Hopefully, she could rope him into spending the time meeting employees and look over the pending, less volatile business sanctions. Or better yet, leave him home.

She strapped her wand to the thin band at her thigh. It was much more sensible than the garters that most witches wore to carry their wands. Now that most witches and wizards were turning to muggle clothing, everyone came up with ingenuous ideas to carry their wands comfortably.

Hermione walked too her study door and pushed it open. And stopped when she saw Malfoy standing approximately ten feet away from her, about to descend the stairs. He was dressed formally. _Blast it_, he wouldn't be staying in.

"Morning Granger" his voice was drawled, casually.

"Morning"

Why he was wearing the exact same color she was! She saw him taking in what she was wearing and then look down at what he wore. Then he caught her amused eye and both of them burst into laughter.

"Coincidence, Granger?"

She smoothed her laughter and grinned. "I can almost picture the daily Prophet. _ESTRANGED MALFOY COUPLE MAKES COMEBACK…DRESSED AS TWINS"_

They both pictured it, in their minds and then burst out laughing, again. It struck Hermione as the laughter pleasantly died down, that laughing with Malfoy had never been this easy. They had been too headstrong at twenty to do anything but be strictly formal and stiff around each other. And fight. But in ten years, it seemed, both of them were a little more comfortable in their own skins and smart enough to know when they could reign their own pride. Even with the occasional fights(it would be a miracle if they didn't fight, and miracle was a little too far-fetched for her taste)they could probably try to get on with amiably. Well she could hope, of course.

"Shall we?"

She looked at him. "I believe we shall.

"So tell me" he asked, as they walked down the stairs "why do you have a meeting with the AWD?"

Hermione mentally rolled her eyes. So much for hoping he wouldn't remember her slip. She supposed she should just tell him the truth. It wasn't as if he could stop her. This was still completely her decision.

"Well I'm trying to get out anemia detecting concoction out in the muggle world and I have to convince them, _in any way_, to agree to my proposal."

"Your taking a personal interest in the matter?" he sounded vaguely, interested.

"Of course I am, it was completely my idea. This is our first time and I don't trust any one else not to destroy our chances"

He shrugged. "It's important that your potion is out there, then?"

She jutted her chin out "It's of utmost importance"

"Well, good luck then"

Hermione looked at him with narrow eyes, trying to decide if he was sincere. He seemed so.

"Thank you" she stopped just before opening door to step outside. He pulled the door open and motioned for her to step out. Then he stepped out.

"I suppose you could stay at the my office and look ove-"

"_Hell no,_ I'm coming with you to the AWD meeting"

Hermione stared at him.

"Why on earth would you do that?" she demanded.

"Curiosity"

She didn't like his curiosity.

"Curiosity killed the cat."

He looked mildly amused "see Granger, then it's a pity I'm _not _I'm not one"

"You will NOT be there, Malfoy."

There was no way the dratted buffoon could be there. The AWD was made of people, and these people, she knew, would be more interested in Malfoy's presence than her proposal. _She just knew that. _He wouldn't- he couldn't be there. She didn't know what possessed her to think that they could be a little easy around each other.

She turned to him and gave him a shiver-in-your-shiny-shoes glare and without letting the amused look on his face aggravate her, she disapparated with a loud crack. Thereby missing the momentous mirth that seemed to have sprung up in him.

Draco chuckled over Granger's antics. He just knew that he was, probably, the only one who could piss her off this easily. It was one of those things that always made him feel blessed. Even more so, seeing that, in the ten years that they had had absolutely no contact at all, he hadn't lost that particular inborn talent. He didn't have any intention of going over to be ogled at by a bunch of retards. He just wanted to see how Granger reacted. She hadn't disappointed him. And while she was gone, he had far more important things to. He face became a little grim. Time to have a little heart-to-heart with Potter.

Last he heard Potter had taken over as the head of auror department, a few years ago. Jerk. Draco couldn't understand, for the life of him, why Potter would choose an auror's life of chasing dark wizards all over the world, after seeing so much of them in the war. Of course, Draco being, well, Draco, thought Potter might have a few masochistic tendencies. Could happen.

He apparated to the Ministry of Magic, cursing it with, more than just a little resentment. In a flash of sunlight, he found himself, blinking at a big, golden statue of-_wait, is that Harry Potter? _

Damn the bastard! He'd gone and gotten himself a bloody statue! See now, this is why life was unfair. Head of aurors and a statue. It just sucked that some people could be rich _and _ a hero _and _get themselves a statue. But on another thought,Draco was much better looking than scar-head. The thought made him feel considerably cheerful, as he strode, purposefully to the reception.

"Name?"

"Draco Malfoy"

The wizard snapped his eyes to Draco's face. His mouth just a little open. Draco felt pleased by the reaction.

"Malfoy?"

Draco nodded.

"The _Malfoy?_"

Draco glared. The wizard gulped. He hastily measured Draco's wand, jotted it all down on the small purple memo. Then conjured a visitor's tag.

"Would you state the purpose of your visit, sir?"

"Yes, I'm here to meet Harry Potter"

The wizard, Higgs, his name tag said, jerked his eyes back to his face.

"Potter?"

Draco gritted his pearly whites and then scowled fiercely at the bugger.

"Yes _that Potter!_"

Higgs handed him the visitor's tag, while staring at him, irritating Draco akmost as much as Potter was sure to irritate him. Almost.

He scowled at the idiot again.

"Which floor are the auror headquarters?"

The blasted epitome of idiocy looked blank for a second. And then scrambled up.

"Oh yes-um- thir-_fourth _floor"

Draco narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Are you sure?"

The wizard nodded violently "It was moved up a few years ago, when Mr. Potter was appointed"

"Of course Potter," Draco sneered at the scrambling man "should've known"

And with that he strode towards the elevator, a purple memo flying behind his blond head. It was almost thirty minutes later, that Draco got off the blasted elevator. With all the stops that the elevator had made, it was wonder that he'd even gotten to the floor.

He walked, confidently, his gait, strong, observing all the plates at the door. He stopped at the door he needed and opened it, without much hesitation. And right in front of him sat Potter at a desk, scrambling away, in all his scar-headed glory.

"Potter"

He barked.

The man-in-question looked up, his tired eyes unfocused for a second. He still wore those black, thick-framed spectacles, still had the unkempt hair and hideous scar. His collar was rumpled and on his table, beside a mountain of papers sat a bottle of Odgen's finest firewhiskey. Potter, at age thirty, didn't look very different than Potter at twenty. Except the lines of stress on his face, and signs of age in his gestures.

Just looking at Potter in a state of dishabille, looking pitiful and uglier than usual made him want to claw his eyes out in disgust. Or crow in unrequited joy.

"Malfoy?"

"No the Bloody baron- of course Malfoy!"

Potter squinted at him and Draco, inwardly winced at the damage, the particular action did to the scarred face.

"Why the hell are you back?"

This time Potter glared at him.

"Yes Potter, I'm doing fine, it's very nice to see you too" Draco said, pleasantly "thank you, for asking me to sit down"

And without waiting for Potter to answer, Draco sauntered to the nearest chair and propped down on it.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Tell me, scarhead, have you visited Granger, lately?" he leaned forward "You know, asked her what's goin' on with her life and all that"

"And pray tell me, why its any of your buisness?" Potter sat back on his chair, looking very unconcerned, as if he couldn't be less interested in Draco's answer.

"I could tell that its my buisness because I'm her husband but-"

"-but we both know that would be hypocritical and not a very small lie" Potter finished for him, picking up an old document from the table table and looking it over.

"Anything else?"

"You know as well as I know, that Granger and I are legally married"

Potter scoffed. "In name only Malfoy, since both us know how you've lived apart for ten years"

"The document stating our marriage still exist." Draco didn't know why Potter was being stupid and dense, since he knew as well as anyone that there had been a Malfoy-Granger union.

"A real marriage is when the marriage is consummated, I doubt you and Hermione ever went that far."

"Why don't you ask Granger about that?" Draco immensely enjoyed the horrified look on Potter's face, who was, no doubt picturing his female best-friend and enemy naked and doing the dirty deed. Come to think of it, even he wad picturing it. It didn't look as unappea-

"LIAR"

Potter all but snarled his accusation. Draco felt elated. But manage to hide it. Or at least tried to.

"Never stated anything, Potter"

"Nevertheless, you bastard, you're implying that you and Hermione slept together"

"Because that's what married couples generally do, in fact even last night, after I returned-"

"LIAR"

This time Potter's snarl was triumphant when he cut Draco off mid-sentence. The ugly man looked smug._ Hideous, hideous!_

"Hermione's been going out with someone, and she'd**_ never_** cheat!"

The deranged man was vehement in his conviction.

Draco deadpanned "You mean like she's _not_ cheating on me?" Draco had guesses she'd had lovers. But knowing for sure still made him feel a little weird.

Potter looked at him squintily again and then sat back with a cat-found-cream expression.

"You've had your fair share of lovers, Malfoy"

Draco started.

"How the hell-"

"-do I know that?" Potter gave him a devious grin "I _**am **_Harry Potter"

Draco stared at the man, as if seeing him for the very first time. Draco was very cautious in taking lovers, in fact he was sure that very few people knew who were his lovers and if Potter knew then it really was a job well done. For the first time Draco felt something akin to admiration for the man in front of him.

"I'm not here to discuss Granger and my sex-life"

"Or the lack of it" he heard Potter mutter.

Draco ignored it.

"I'm here to inform you that Granger's gone bonkers."

"Has she?Again?"

Draco looked aghast. "You mean she's gone crazy before?"

"This is _Hermione Granger_ we are talking about" Harry answered, ruefully.

They both quieted down for a few seconds, having realized that they just agreed on something. The said something being Granger's perpetual madness.

Draco cleared his throat. Potter looked at him.

"Well, this might be the craziest yet."

"How is that even possible?" Potter's voice was heavy with wonder. Draco smirked. _This would be like zapping the sod with lightning._

"She wants to resurrect or possibly re-create the philosopher's stone."

Silence. _Pure, uninterrupted _silence reigned the office for a few blessed seconds. Draco prepared his ears for the-

**_"BLOOODY WHAT?"_**

-explosion. Draco winced, rubbing his mistreated ears.

"You heard me."

Potter stood up so fast, that his chair flew backward and banged the wall. His face looked red. But Draco knew enough to know, the idiot was stunned rather than livid.

"Why?"

Draco shrugged. "Something about untreatable muggle diseases"

Potter looked down at him for a few seconds, before his face softened and his shock deflated. He slumped back down to his chair, and then surveyed something on desk thoughtfully.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Draco ogled at the man, for a while. Potter looked at him when he didn't answer and then noticed his blatant surprise.

"What?" the man-who-who-lived-to-be-an-asshole sounded a tad defensive.

"She's you best friend!" Draco pointed an accusing finger at aforementioned asshole."It's dangerous! And most possibly could get her killed if anyone found out!"

Potter looked amused. He looked at Draco's finger, then at his face. "She's your wife."

"POTTER!"

"I think I'm going to go outside and take a breath of fresh air."

Ad with a deviousness, that Draco had never guessed the hero of the wizarding world possessed, Harry Potter smirked and sauntered out of the room.

"POTTER YOU BASTARD!"


	5. Chapter 5

Seventeen years ago

AUTHOR'S NOTE; it's not a very exciting chapter(Sorry) but don't worry the next chapter will have more of what you guys will want to know. A little more of the past and a little more of Draco's personality. Basically chapter five ended up being a filler in between four and five…ahh the miseries of cliffies..

**Seventeen years ago**

Harry and Ron were mad at her. Again.

Hermione sighed. It was difficult when she felt like she was the third-wheel just because she cared about her friends' lives more than she cared about their friendship. She was closer to them than she was to her own parents. Sometimes, even though she hadn't gone through half the things Harry did, she felt like the only grown up between them. It was as if she was _compelled_ to take care of them. To make them study, eat, comfort; Especially when it came to Harry. That boy roused the mother hen instincts that she didn't know she possessed. The responsibility that she felt towards Ron was different; She didn't know how nor did she know why, but it was different.

Hermione glanced at the darkened dormitory. Everyone was down at dinner, eating. Her stomach gave a nauseated roll at the thought of food_. Better not to go down for food_, she thought. But she still wanted to get out of the closed Gryffindor tower. She wished she could borrow Harry's invisibility cloak.

Hermione quietly slipped out of her bed and walked out of the dorms, to the astronomy tower. She could breathe then. She could think if what about what she did. And she knew it was sneaky and underhanded.

In the end, Hermione knew that she could never rid of the compulsion to _always _try to look out for Harry and Ron even if she had to disregard to their wishes. They had saved her life, she reflected gazing up at the star of Bellatrix. She'd do anything in her power to keep them safe…in spite of the fact that she could possibly lose their friendship in the process.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Harry Potter looked at the clock on the vividly colored walls of his house. In a few minutes his wife would be home. It usually made him feel silly that even after six years of marriage, the anticipation of seeing Ginny after a long day of work hadn't dimmed. But today, he was rather distracted, thinking of his best friend and her daft soul of a husband. It felt weird to call Malfoy her husband. Even more so after ten years of their estrangement. He clearly remembered watching his best friend being shoved into a politically motivated reunion and how furious he had been right after the last war. He remembered the arguments between Hermione and himself at her decision to accept the union. He remembered the heart break both Hermione and Ron had suffered through and never recovered. It was the point where Ron had picked up his things and left the country, accepting a job that would take him away from England on purpose. He couldn't even blame Malfoy, because the sod was also giving up what Hermione and Ron were. They were giving up their bloody freedom of choice.

He leaned back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he thought about Hermione's new mission. Malfoy was right; Hermione had really lost it if she wanted to re-create the Philosopher's stone. There was nothing Harry could do about it, because he _knew _why she wanted to treat incurable muggle diseases, and even she didn't know that he knew.It _was _personal.

He remembered her bloodshot eyes whenever she came back from visiting her parents. If it had happened once he wouldn't have worried much. He'd started noticing seven years ago. And when he'd thought back he remembered those depressing signs in Hermione since they were fifteen. He did what any good friend would do: He found out the problem, with a well-placed call to the Granger household. He never looked at Hermione the same way since. He'd been so angry at her for the first few hours, wondering how she wouldn't share something like that with him, with Ron.

But then he mellowed. And he felt so bad for his friend. He felt terrible for her. And out of respect he'd never asked her about it. As a result, he'd become Hermione's biggest protector. Now if he could only invoke that protector in her husband too. They _had___been__married ten years, Harry thought, and now it was time they acted like it. Hermione's dates were getting despicable by the day. In fact, Ginny and Harry had liked her last boyfriend even less than they liked Malfoy, and that was saying something.

Now all he had to do was push them together (Harry mentally cringed, at the idea that he was match making his best friend with Draco Malfoy). That way Malfoy could convince her to give up the idea of the stone and deal with her old grief (which he suspected, she'd never done)and fall for her. It was, the boy-who-lived decided, hitting two birds with one stone. His plan was a good one.

"Harry, are you home?"

His wife's pretty voice floated from downstairs. Harry was off the bed and down the stairs faster than someone could say 'Dragon Dung'. Besotted fool, that he was.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Hermione sat on the plush leather chair, listening to the voice of Sara Bareillies while contemplating. The meeting with AWD hadn't gone as well as she hoped, and because of those bloody gits she was royally pissed, enough to rant and rave

"_Ms. Granger we need a little more time to think", baldy in pink shirt said "we have to determine the validity of the potion, maybe in a few more days?"_

_By the time you bastards reach your decision half of those children will be dead; All of them before they reach a reproductive age, Hermione wanted to screech. But instead she settled for a stiff smile and a formal nod of acceptance._

The day had been tiring. She looked over contracts and finances and signed till her wrists and eyes ached. She knew that there were others who could take some of the work load off her shoulders but her control freak tendencies were just more than just a little difficult to let go of. She didn't much appreciate the feeling. It always reminded her of things she didn't want to remember. Of things that she'd pushed away, that she'd never had closure with. Things that no one knew. Although, Hermione thought, sometimes she did suspect that Harry knew. Which was impossible, since she'd never told anyone. She'd selfishly safe-guarded memories that were hers, because she knew that when she shared them (illogical as it was) it would become their pain as well. She couldn't bear that.

It was a difficult feeling of possessiveness that tore through her. Whatever it was, however it was, it was hers.

_The memories were hers, only hers._

This mood that she was so magnificently sporting left her too out-of-sorts to deal with Malfoy.

Hermione suddenly craned her neckwhen spotted a small light at a distance through her glass doors. The office was supposed to be empty. Hermione grabbed her wand from under her skirt and drew it out. She stood from her chair and crept slowly towards the door, stopping a small distance and moved to the side. The knob of her door turned slowly and the door opened.

"AAAAAAARGHHHHHH"

"Evening Granger."

"Jesus, Malfoy you scared the hell out of me!"

He gave her a savvy smile full of Malfoy charm. "Good."

Hermione glared at the him

"What the hell are you doing here?" Malfoy asked "This late at night."

"In case you sustained some horrible injury I should remind you that its my _office," _Hermione retorted. "obviously I'm working."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her. "Well if I'd known that you'd work all the time instead of paying attention to the matter for which I came all the way to England, I really wouldn't have bothered."

Hermione just turned away from him, strode back to her chair and seated herself calmly

"Why are you here, Malfoy?"

He eyed her speculatively no doubt because of the lack of a caustic remark. Then he came forward and settled himself on the chair in front of her desk, propping up his feet on the desk. Hermione wrinkled her nose, but otherwise didn't acknowledge the action.

"I wanted to ask you a few questions."

Hermione looked at him warily, nodding her consent letting her head fall back on the cushion of her chair.

"I'm here to ask you when can we stop dancing around each other and get to what I'm here for?"

He might've asked it that way. But Hermione knew what he meant. _Oh she knew! _He was actually saying 'cut the crap and let's get to business so I shoot your sorry arse down'. And _**NO **_she wasn't paranoid! And to prove her point, she _ignored _his underlying meaning.

"I'll have to hunt up my records and schedule appointments, Malfoy" she replied "I want to finish my work with the AWD, and then we'll get straight to it. Let me get out my work out of my hair."

He frowned. "Why can't you just get your junior assistant make them for you?"

"There are some things I need to do for myself."

"You need to _everything_ yourself, Granger." and then under his breath "Control-freak."

"What's wrong with that?" Hermione asked defiantly.

He smiled at her patronizingly. "Nothing at all, _darling._" He pushed himself off the chair. "How is the AWD treating you?"

Hermione sighed. "Not very good, they need time to think about it."

He chuckled. "Its your first motion isn't it?"

When she nodded in affirmative he continued "Last year I was trying the same thing. We were trying to promote a potion for permanently rendering haemophilia dormant."

Hermione looked at him interestedly. "Got the approval?"

He nodded "It was difficult," he shrugged "but we finally got the motion passed through at the beginning of this year."

"Congratulations," Hermione grinned "Do tell me what you did to finally get it through."

Malfoy grinned back at her. "One word: Blackmail."

"Oh this I have to hear…"

9999898999999

Draco stood in the middle of Diagon Alley debating whether to go inside the elegant looking shop(Parkinson Potions for Perfection) and meet his good friend, Pansy Parkinson or come back later in the morning. He looked at blurry outline of a tall witch bustling round, one that he hadn't seen for a very long time. Six years, to be precise. The last time had been when she came to America to personally over-see a shipment. She visited him; they had dinner and then she was on her way while he on his. It was only fair he returned the favor. Besides, she _was _his friend.

The decision was taken out of his hands when the door of the establishment swung open.

"Draco? Draco Malfoy?" A delighted, female voice stuttered. "Oh my…!"

"Pansy Parkinson." he greeted warmly. "What a delig-"

Before he could complete his sentence, she launched herself at him and hugged him tight, wrapping her legs around his waist. Draco gulped inaudibly and awkwardly returned the hug. He'd never really been a touchy-feely person. _Good God _she was hugging him.

"This is-Arghhh!"

Draco yelped when she felt her hands slapping his bum and then dropped her. She hit the ground and sat on her bottom and long, curling black hair tumbling down her shoulders. Then she looked up at him slyly looking more like a Slytherin then the pug-faced girl he remembered. She was beautiful, he noticed. Blue eyed, black haired, and slender-bodied. She had even grown into her pug nose (or she charmed it permanently). Draco gave her an appreciative look and offered her a hand.

"Ahh, Draco, it's nice to see you again." she grinned at him.

Draco cleared his throat. "Yes, you proved that very well."

Her grin turned into a full-fledged smile. "

"Want to go for a late-night dinner?" It was an impulsive offer; he made it before thinking.

"Sure, I know just the place." She turned towards the shop. "Just give me a moment to close up."

Five minutes later, they walked down the almost-empty streets of Diagon Alley chatting like the oldest friends.

"So how come you've returned?" she asked. "I was under the impression you were gone for good."

Draco shrugged. "Husbandly duties."

She waited for him to elaborate but when he didn't she asked for him to.

"I'd rather not."

She didn't respond to this; instead she asked him how his business was.

"It's flourishing. I'm thinking of expanding."

The old acquaintances were so busy in catching up…. neither of them noticing a tall man of about their age watching them from across their booth. His face in a grim line, he stood up and paid for his meal then walked away.

It was almost two A.M at night when Hermione's cell phone started ringing persistently. As much as she liked Carrie Underwood, she didn't much fancy being woken up at in the middle of the night with her voice in her ear. She groped for the phone and flipped it open.

"Hello?" her voice was groggy and heavy with sleep.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice was asked from the other end.

"No the bloody Baron- Of course Hermione" he paused then "You know Malfoy said the exact thing today."

"Oh Shut- _wait ­_–when did you meet Malfoy?" she grumbled.

"Today, but that's not why I called."

"Then get on with it, Harry." Hermione growled.

"Ron's back."

Hermione went very, _very _still and became very, _very _awake.

"He's back?"

"Yup. He said he'll be coming over to our place later this week."

"He's back?" Hermione moaned this time. "Oh _Merlin!_"

"You're coming to dinner the day he is." he commanded, sounding very un-Harry like "I'll let you know when."

"But Harry, I can't." she told him. "This isn't a very good time. I mean with Malfoy her and my work…and also I don't know if I could face him."

"Hermione," he sounded exasperated. "It's been a long time; it has to be done. How long can you both tip-toe around each other?"

Hermione shut her eyes and gulped audibly. She heard Harry snort.

_Insensitive pig! _

"Okay."

"Later Hermione, sleep tight" and he disconnected.

_**Ron….**_Hermione lay back down. This would be so difficult. It had been way too long since she'd seen talked to Ron. Now that Harry had gotten it into his head to reunite them as friends she and Ron would be forced to talk about things they had ignored discussing. Old resentments and feelings. Ron's abrupt departure had left a lot of threads dangling loose.

88888888888888888888888888888

Harry rubbed his tired eyes and looked at his wife.

"Do you think we did the right thing in calling Ron?" he asked her.

She sighed. "We had to do something."

"True."

"Besides, they deserve to know where they stand." She glanced at him, her blue eyes alight with understanding "It's been so long."

"I know." This time he grinned. "We could've been good Slytherins!"

"Bite you tongue. Mr. Potter." She mock shuddered. "Thank God we're not."

"I'd rather bite yours, Mrs. Potter."

Ginny laughed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

AUTHOR's NOTE: Hopefully the chapter will be worth at least some amount of the waiting my readers had to do. The chapter, it is entirely possible, will take a more serious not than any of chapters before did. In fact, the tone of the story will probably be getting a little more serious. Credit for Inspiration is awarded to TechNomaNcer98(the very much looming-ly present best-friend), One republic's "Say (All I need)", Kelly Clarkson's "Sober", David Cook, The Bravery, final fantasy versus theme and my endless fascination with alchemy, chemistry and metaphysics.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Draco watched Granger's back, knowing that she was archiving her thoughts. She rubbed the pads of her thumbs on her temple and then slowly pivoted to face him from her position in front of the window, eyeing him sitting on the red couch in the living room of the manor. They'd both dressed casually for what was sure to be the starting of another session of trying to convince Granger to let go of her insane notions. She wore straight, comfortable pants with a plain shirt completely complementing his own jeans and t-shirt attired self.

"Look Granger" Draco started, for the umpteenth time intending to disabuse her of her own intention. "one can't just wrangle invitations to an exclusive upper echelon ministry ball with the purpose of bombarding Nicholas Flamel with questions about the philosopher's stone."

"It's not going to be that difficult." She retorted with a scowl worthy of a giant. "Besides this may be my only chance to have a face-to-face chat with Nicholas Flamel. It's not as if he hands out appointments."

"Exactly!" he pointed out."And why do you think he kept himself out of the public eye?"

Granger threw him a dark look. He supposed he should've shivered in his shoes but he was too exhausted simultaneously trying to talk Granger into not giving up her position as CEO and start a mass war by publicly declaring her intentions of doing everything in her power to create the legendary stone. Come to think of it, Draco knew it was incomprehensible that Hermione Granger of all people would refuse to see what kind of uproar an action like that could raise in the entire Wizarding Community. But that didn't change the fact that it was happening; she was refusing.

"Multitudes of reasons" Granger was saying "one of which, I know, is his refusal to talk to the public about most of his discoveries but we are both professionals and I'm sure between the two of us we can convince him to divulge his methods in the name of medical advancement."

"Forget it" he arched her a look, while wriggling his sock-covered toes "I'm not gate-crashing a ministry ball in the name of 'medical advancement.'"

She snorted delicately and returned his arch look, rather sardonically.

"Who says we're gate-crashing?"

"Even the name of Hermione Granger and Malfoy pharmaceuticals isn't powerful enough to open that particular ballroom door."

She gave a slow smile, the one which he'd already started to dread during his already too-long stay in England.

"They are when the name of Harry Potter stands with them."

Draco groaned mentally.

_Bloody Potter and his hero status!_

"You're going to use your best friend's name to further your own purposes!" he accused inwardly hoping that his direct accusation had some effect on the rhino-skinned woman in front of him.

He watched the flash of guilty regret quickly replaced by the arch, annoyed look she only reserved for him. That she reserved a look for him, usually one that he so efficiently earned made him bloody proud of himself!

"It's all for a good cause."

But it so appeared that not even his formidable powers of annoying Hermione Granger could save them now.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Draco had left the manor hours ago in order to clear his mind to plot nefarious plans that would force Granger out of her obvious insanity. Unfortunately for all his evil, Slytherin cunning he was drawing a frustrating blank. It didn't escape him that he'd promised her he would visit experts on the subject and then make his decision but the concept was so utterly absurd that it didn't even bear thinking. Not to mention, to his great chagrin, Potter was being his usual useless self in discouraging Granger. Now all hope lay with Draco and Draco alone.

After a lot of pondering Draco decided to broaden his knowledge about the Philosopher's stone and apparated in front of the public library of London. The library's infrastructure was huge and built in a shape rather like the 'white house'. He shuddered; libraries freaked him out. He made 

his way up the entrance stairs and let himself in. he went to the librarian's desk and enquired about the alchemy section so as not to waste time looking.

"Good afternoon," he said politely (and loudly)-the librarian looked to be a lonely, old lady probably in need of company. He decided to indulge her just a bit. "How are you doing?"

The woman looked up from the book with an annoyed scowl that, surely would've drove lesser men into hiding. He just smiled pleasantly.

"What do you want?"

Draco, still smiling, replied. "If you could just point me to the alchemy section, I'd be out of your way."

The woman's sour expression got worse.

"Third left from here."

He thanked her in that annoyingly polite voice and walked to where he'd been pointed. The section that said alchemy was a lot smaller then expected and the books on the shelves looked fairly old. Draco knew very little on the subject of alchemy. While his knowledge wasn't a completely nil-seeing he ran a pharmaceutical industry-what he knew about alchemy wouldn't fill a book. Maybe a page, though. All his own healers, scientists and potion-makers had told him was that, he tried to recall, was that alchemy as a science had been ceased to be used a very long time ago. There was nothing specific about alchemy; it was too vast; too many subjects rolled under one name to ever be of any use; a little too spiritual to be used in solid medicine. Alchemy demanded more and more research without divulging any answer.

He read the titles of the books: _Alchemy or the beginnings of chemistry_, _The alchemic essence_, _Alchemic recipes_, _Alchemic relation to the elixir of life._

_Ahh...found it._

Draco pulled out 'Alchemic relation to the elixir of life' and sat down at the nearest table, flipping it open.

_Bloody insane Granger!_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two days after she'd discussed the Ministry ball with Malfoy, Hermione knocked on Harry and Ginny's door, remembering their bell was broken, and waited. She sighed loudly, thinking that she really wasn't ready to face Ron tonight. After a few minutes she got impatient and knocked much louder. She heard a muffled voice from behind the door shouting something that sounded 

like 'gimme a minute.' And the door swung open and she was enveloped in Harry's distracted hug.

"Hey Hermione how've you been?" he asked, trying pull his socks on his hands and looking at about a thousand different directions at once. "Killed the git yet?"

"Ermm Harry? Harry?" he didn't pay attention to her, still frantically looking around and turning over the pillows of his couch. She rapped on his head; hard. "HARRY?"

"Ouch." He finally stopped and gave her a beseeching look. "That hurt!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as her hands found themselves on her hips. "I've been trying to tell you that you're wearing your socks on your hands, you dolt."

He looked down and looked a looked a little confused when he saw his grey sock around his hand. He pulled it off and laced it in its rightful place.

"Now," she started again "What are you looking for?"

"I can't find my wand." He said, taking a step towards the living room. "I'll go check the living room."

"Wash your hands." She called out while he left.

"Yes mum!" she heard his amused reply, as she made her place on the turned over couch.

A few minutes later she heard the main gate open and thinking that it must be Ginny she walked out of the room saying "Hey Ginny...been a whi-" and promptly shut up on seeing who it was.

_Oh God!_

"Ron"

Even to her own ears her voice sounded uncharacteristically hesitant. Mentally stamping down the feeling, she took a step closer.

"Hermione" his smile was warm and tentative. "How are you?"

"Well enough, I suppose," she returned the smile with one of her own. "How about you? Last I heard you were in Bulgaria preparing for a photo shoot with the Quidditch team."

He shrugged "It was a job well done" he replied "but now I'm looking for something closer to home."

He looked like the same Ron she'd last seen; even smiled like him. But Hermione could nevertheless discern the differences. His shoulders had broadened out, his hair tied back with a dark ribbon. His face sported more freckles giving him a dark, roguish look previously missing. 

His voice was quieter, older and the lines on his face spoke of more experience with life. In short Ronal Weasley had grown him. Hermione waited belatedly for the girly, fluttery feeling of attraction that she used to have every time she had looked at Ron. But it didn't come. They had both grown out of their feelings. The relief was palpable.

On an impulse she blurted out "I've missed you, Ron. I really, really have."

Ron's voice broke out in that familiar grin and rushed towards and enveloped her in a hug.

"Good, so have I."

It was a remainder of their old friendship; her eyes were suddenly feeling misty. But she didn't break out. Hermione Granger never did.

"We're still friends, right."

"That's what we're always meant to be, Ron."

He, still grinning, let her go and then looked over her shoulder at somebody. Hermione turned around and seeing Harry she mouthed _thanks._

Harry shook his head as if to say, _don't mention it._

This was the day Hermione had waited for, for the past ten years of her life.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They were sitting around the Potters' table laughing and reminiscing while Ginny bustled around refilling all of their plates her short red hair messy and very Ginny-like. She then, proceeded to take her place beside Harry and started asking Ron about his travels. Hermione kept one ear open to their conversation while she ate; laughing at the way Ginny was berating Ron. They were both so loud that she couldn't even hear herself think.

"What do you mean you were busy?" Ginny demanded with an auburn eye-brow arched. "How busy do you have to be to refrain from contacting your best friend for four years?"

"Well I-"

"And your family? How could you not tell your own sister where you were?"

"I sent you post cards"

"POSTCARDS?" Ginny's color was high. "DO I LOOK TWELVE TO YOU?"

Hermione worked really hard to keep from laughing. She didn't dare look at Harry knowing that he was having the same problem she was; if she looked at him she would surely burst out laughing.

"Well you're the one who wanted to know about how the places I was travelling to were? Ron shot back, _thankfully _having swallowed first. Turning to Harry he said "Compliments to chef."

Before Harry could reply Ginny broke in furiously. "Would the world have ended if you wrote me in a letter how you found it? Or _worse_ gave me a call?"

Ron just gave a care-free shrug and said. "I thought you'd like the post-cards."

Ginny snorted, her bangs falling onto her eyes and disposition spoiled in the way in which only a brother could spoil it. "For the last time _Ronald, _I'm not _twelve!_"

Ron flinched at the 'Ronald' then eyed his younger sister warily and muttered "Could've fooled me…"

Ginny let out a strangled scream and Hermione couldn't hold it anymore bursting into laughter giving Harry his cue to join her. They both laughed for a good few minutes while Ginny glared at her husband and best-friend.

"I haven't had a good laugh like that in ages. "Hermione gasped.

Ginny's expression was sour "Well, glad to be of service."

Hermione burst out again "What is it about brothers that brings out the twelve year old in a sister?"

Ginny sighed, exasperatedly looking at her brother who'd just walked out of the room with her husband. "I have no idea."

Then she turned to Hermione "Had fun eh?"

Hermione nodded, failing to remember the last time she'd been to a dinner that didn't include an evening dress, a pompous arse and lots and lots of polite smiling.

"So how's your Malfoy?" Ginny asked, changing the subject "Still being the git?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's not _my _Malfoy." She retorted, "And he's still as annoying as ever but we're better at tolerating each other than we were at twenty, I suppose."

"That's a given." She continued "It should've been easier being younger but our youth was never easy."

Hermione thought about it for a moment and said "I prefer the enlightening thirty over the angsty twenty, oddly."

"Well life's certainly easier to you at thirty than at twenty so I'm guessing it's natural."

"It is." Hermione paused "How's your W-M coming along?"

"It's quite exciting now," Ginny face just lit up. "The AWD are approving our more important muggle drugs. We just took a big step from pain-killer and leapt into antibiotics."

Now this was a subject Hermione found interesting.

"Really what's the first venture?"

Ginny pulled out a two stools from under the counter motioning Hermione to sit down on one while placing herself on the other. Hermione hurried to the seat.

"I'm sure you know that the population of bacteria resistant to the most common type of antibiotic is increasing;" Ginny was gesturing sizes with her fingers. "ineffective penicillin and all that?"

Hermione nodded "Don't tell me you-"

Ginny gave her trade-mark grin. "Yup we did!"

"But I would've heard _something_ by now!" Hermione tone was indignant. "We _are _in the same business and if you've found a way for the bacterium to stop becoming resistant I _should've _heard something."

Ginny patted her hand in sympathy. "It's still hush-hush, really. The AWD wants a second, completely muggle evaluation."

"Wow…Wow that's just huge."

"It is! This is what I've been waiting for;" Ginny said "This is exactly what we needed to put W-M pharmaceuticals on the mark."

Hermione smiled at her friend. "I know we're supposed to be rivals, at least we will be, but congratulations!"

Ginny beamed "Thanks; to be called the rival of Malfoy pharmaceuticals is to be at the top of the game."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Draco had spent the last two days of his life catching up on his alchemy and now he knew more about it than he'd ever wanted to. He rubbed his tired eyes and finally put the book down, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. Now if he could only find Granger. After reading what he'd just read, he was a little embarrassed to say, the whole idea was starting to rub off on him. The sheer complexity, history and impossibility of the stone were its best attraction and Granger, Draco found, was not the only curious mind in the manor.

So suffice to say he was leaning towards the whole convince-Potter-to-score-some-tickets because he was curious about Nicholas Flamel's years old breakthrough. Not that he wanted to make the philosopher's stone again but he sure wanted to know about it. His eyes rolled back in horror at the realization that he sounded like Granger. Uncannily.

Draco shrugged all Granger-like thoughts and swung his legs off the bed to walk to the desk. Dipping the quill in the bottle of black ink, he started writing on the piece of parchment he'd found.

_Hallaway,_

_-Extend my vacation; write a formal letter to the board._

_-Raid the company archives and find everything you can on the Philosopher's stone and an 8__th__ century scientist called Geber. ASAP._

_Draco Malfoy._

Derek Hallaway was his assistant; had been so for the last three years. The man had been a young twenty-two when he'd been hired by Malfoy pharmaceuticals. In a short period of time, four years at the most, he'd moved up the ranks and convinced Draco that he needed an assistant. And Draco had found himself with the most efficient employee in his office as his first assistant. Besides the man knew everything about well, everything, a feat that freaked Draco out though he didn't show it. Much.

He walked out of the room and made his way to the manor owlery. The cold air seeped through his clothes as soon as he stepped inside the owlery. He chose a large, elegant looking black owl with a name tag that said 'Maverick' and tied the scroll to its leg, whispering the destination. Maverick-the owl took of instantly.

The cold air did good to Draco's head and cleared the jumble of alchemy in his mind. He didn't know what he would do after he found more about Philosopher's stone but he had a nagging premonition that he'd go as mad as Granger had. He sighed, defeated.

_Bloody, bloody hell!_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hermione finally found time alone with Harry when Ginny and Ron were genuinely catching up. Ron was sprawled on the big sofa in the living room with Ginny on the seat beside him while Harry and Hermione gave the a little necessary distance to the explosive sibling duo.

"So Hermione," Harry suddenly started "anything you want to talk to me about?'

Hermione threw a shrewd glance at her best-friend.

"What do you know?" Hermione asked in reply.

He grimaced. "It's impossible to be subtle with you."

She grinned "You really should know better than trying that with me." She told him "Now tell me what my husband has filled your head with."

He wore a pained expression. "I don't understand why you both just don't get an annulment." He told her. "Every time you remind me that he's your husband I feel like someone's churning a knife in my ear."

"It's been ten years," Hermione rolled her eyes. "What grounds would I give for annulment? Besides it's a comfortable state for both of us."

"Tell the court that he had a secret drug addiction or that he doesn't swing your way." He suddenly smirked. "Or tell them he has…problems with consummation."

Hermione could feel the bubbling laugh but she kept her lips from twitching while she pictured Malfoy's face after such a claim was made. Then she couldn't hold it back. For the second time both she and Harry burst out in laughter. The earlier sips of champagne had loosened them both up.

"What happened?" asked Ginny looking very, very curious. Ron had the same look on his face.

"Nothing at all;" Harry fibbed, trying to stifle his laughter. "just a joke at the office."

Hermione nodded, both she and Harry instinctively knowing that now wouldn't be a good time to bring Malfoy's name up. Ginny threw them another confused glance and went back to talking to her brother.

"Okay," Harry started after their mirth had ebbed. "He told me about your plans to create the Philosopher's stone."

Hermione didn't reply immediately so he continued. "I know its true or Malfoy wouldn't have gone into the trouble of visiting me. You must've really freaked him out."

She remembered her moment of vulnerability and cursed inwardly but she kept her face neutral knowing that Harry was looking for signs of emotions that answered his question. This was the downside for having an auror as a best-friend. They were always looking for signs.

"Are you asking as an auror or my best friend?"

Harry face was wearing its characteristic seriousness, so common for a soldier.

"I've never asked you anything as an auror and I'm not about to start now." He replied. "But I need to know after every thing that you know can come about with the creation of the stone, why would you want to do it?"

"You can't just trust me?" she asked.

"Don't you think I should know?"

Hermione sighed. "There are diseases; horrible diseases, some you know about and some the likes of which you can't even imagine. There are people who die terrible death because of these illnesses. I just think everyone, no matter what kind of disease, deserves a cure. It seems just so unfair that for the desires of some evil, selfish people the good people are missing chances of living healthy lives. It's just not fair."

"Things aren't simple, Hermione." He ran one hand through his shaggy hair. "Its just the selfish, evil people seem to be making more impact on the world than the good, cured people and that's something I don't want to see. Because just once if someone like Voldemort gets a chance to get their hands on something so big we'd be doomed. It's not just a cure Hermione; it's a weapon of mass power."

They both sat silently for a moment knowing that none of them would change each other's minds; knowing that in their own way they both were right.

"Then I suppose we just have to take the risk." She replied quietly. "There have always been people who use and people who misuse but you know as well as I do that I shouldn't stop invention; it can't. The world can't come to a stop because some people misuse. Who are going to think about the ones who deserve the good?"

Another long silence

"I suppose speaking to Nicholas Flamel would be your first step." He asked her. "So how're you going to do it?"

"Get me an invitation to the ministry ball."

Groaning, "I can't do that!"

Hermione smiled "You know you can."

He gave her a disgruntled look. "What if I don't?"

"It doesn't matter, I'll use your weighty name every time I face a problem and guilt you into taking blame." She was grinning, unrepentantly.

Now he just looked scared. He glanced toward his wife, as if he was waiting for her to come to his rescue.

"I'll see what I can do."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry sat in front of the fire, hours after Ron and Hermione had left the house and Ginny had gone up to bed. His mind was too full to sleep.

Logically, he knew that both he and Hermione were right about their arguments. He also knew that she understood what he was seeing. He wasn't the only one who had seen what one man hell-bent on immortality and power had done to the world. But, he knew what existed in the deeper recesses that they hadn't seen. He'd seen the deaths; the horrible ones were the ill coughed blood and writhed in pain till the moment of their death; curses so painful that the afflicted prayed and paid for their own death. He knew what power one drop of the elixir of life contained. He knew how just that drop could change the world.

It was ironic that the one thing that could cure the world of eons of illness and poverty could turn around and destroy the very same world to smithereens.

**AUTHOR's 2****nd**** NOTE: **Forgive me again. Here's the chapter served on a big tray(11 pages big). Hopefully the next chapter won't be as long in the making. R and R.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

**AN: **Songs that have contributed to this chapter – White Horses-Taylor Swift, Run-Snow Patrol, Dreamin' Out Loud-One republic, Ladies' Choice-Mandy Moore. Author's request: Please do not listen to the songs while reading because they're completely unrelated! Enjoy!

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The back of her dress, Draco watched fascinated, displayed an entire world of unexplored Hermione Granger. _Literally. _

Little creamy bumps and a long dent and right till that spinal dip and _stop_…well it was new to the eyes or at least, it was new to his eyes. Her heels put her a few centimeters above his nose and that odd intriguing perfume was stronger around her. A mahogany, silky-looking evening gown, the bushy hair twisted in some elegant, elaborate style and an entirely new and sexy slit on the side of the colored silk made Granger very easy on the eyes. Draco was impressed, very much so. Enough to gape at the pretty, bare back like a fifteen year old boy till he remembered that she might be his wife but it was still_ her_ and so not really his to look at.

Right as the last thought sailed through his head she turned, cutting off his view to her back and faced him with a trademark _there's-Malfoy _scowl.

_Ahhh,_ he thought,_ now I remember why I CAN'T find her sexy._

"Malfoy!" her irritated voice grated on his ears "How long are you going to stand there looking like an idiot? We're getting LATE!"

He mentally winced at the ego-bruising and threw her a royally annoyed look and deliberately sauntered leisurely to the apparition point, just to irritate her. The fact didn't escape her and her pointed glares promised revenge with each slow step. He smirked; she looked aggravated. When he reached the apparition point, she grabbed his elbow and apparated leaving a loud 'POP' in their wake.

Their landing at their destination was unsurprisingly graceful, both he and Granger unwilling to make fools of themselves in front of each other or anyone else for that matter. He looked at her again, while she faced the ballroom doors and was slightly taken aback by the steely set of determination on her face. Draco smirked on seeing a heretofore unseen side of Hermione Granger- seeing as he hadn't really seen the business woman in action.

Hermione Granger and Nicholas Flamel. Now there's a sight you don't see everyday. Draco had a feeling that if she couldn't convince the old man to give his research to them, no one save Dumbledore could; which would've been impossible since Dumbledore was ,well, dead.

_Well this should be interesting…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry leaned against the bar, finally having gotten away from the eyes of the rest of the crowd. His starched formal robes, as fine as they were felt nowhere as comfortable as his muggle clothes and coupled with that having to be the escort of the first ever female minister of magic thrust him in the public eye—or rather the eyes of the elite, in this case. It would've been so much better to have come with Ginny. Harry Potter could never claim to live a charmed life.

But now that he was hidden in the shadows, he could peacefully look for Hermione and Malfoy and hopefully Malfoy and he would stop Hermione from making contact with Nicholas Flamel or at least minimize the damage.

There was just one minor problem: It was Hermione they were planning to stop; and if they were speaking technically, they really didn't have a plan. That aspect of the equation had always been said female's specialty.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hermione discreetly scanned the crowd as she sipped her champagne, her hand loosely tucked in the crook of Malfoy's arm as they conversed with someone from the board of directors of a rival company. Her eyes fell on the artfully arranged mirrors at various corners of the room. At the moment Malfoy turned his head towards her and it struck her how much like a couple they looked together. He looked absolutely dashing, having chosen to wear a formal muggle tux and forgo the robes---only ministry employees were required to wear robes--- and she, herself in an evening gown, their respective heights, coloring…everything just….matched. She blinked and the spell was broken. She subtly gave her head a little shake to clear it. Malfoy was being beseeched about questions of his homecoming and now that Hermione had returned to present she was getting rather impatient to continue her search.

"A vacation after ten years, Mr. Malfoy?" the man was saying with a strange glint in his eye, "Very…nice of you to come back to Mrs. Malfoy."

Before Hermione could correct the idiot, Malfoy's voice laced with cold amusement and very condescending cut her off.

"It's Ms. Granger," he replied "I didn't know there were people like," the look he gave the man was of polite disgust "you to worry about my return to my wife. If I had know, I would come back much sooner. Now if you would excuse us."

Hermione didn't know whether to be impressed or insulted while the insolent man's snake-like smile was replaced with a glare as Malfoy and she walked away from him. She could've easily defended herself but she supposed Malfoy should be able to shut the mouths of people whose tongues were wagging. After all she'd dealt with her share of the public innuendoes, after he had left England abruptly, till they died down. Now that he was back it the public talk was bound to start again just like she had known it would. Oddly the thought hadn't bothered her that much. Hermione decide on being impressed.

"Quite the let down." She commented.

"Impressed?"

"A little bit...but I'm sure I've seen better." She said patronizingly.

"I'm sure you have." He adopted the same tone that she'd used and gave his characteristic arrogant smirk.

For some reason it didn't irritate Hermione as thoroughly as it had done before.

"So do you see Nicholas Flamel anywhere?" he asked after a while of taking turns about the room. "Any distinguishing features on the man?"

Hermione tried to remember a face she'd seen years ago and match it with the crowd. Presently thought she couldn't see the face anywhere.

"I think he's not here yet," she replied "I saw him only once in my life, but I don't think I'd ever forget that particular face."

"Any particular reason?"

She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully "Not exactly, It's just…how can you forget Nicholas Flamel?"

"Hermione" the familiar voice hissed next to her.

Hermione looked to her left, towards the direction of the voice so fast that even Malfoy heard the crick of her neck. Instead of being mature about it and being sympathetic, the thirty-year-old brat sniggered. Hermione looked at him disgustedly and then returned to glare at the person who was responsible for the entire thing.

"May I help you?" Hermione asked through her teeth making it clear that she would do anything but. Harry looked sheepish.

"Sorry" he told her "but I'm actually hiding so I can't be very loud."

Hermione mentally rolled her eyes.

_When would Harry learn that Harry Potter couldn't hide from the public eye?_

She decided to let him revel in his delusions.

"Come to stop Granger's madness, Potter?" Malfoy asked in that suddenly unbearable irritating voice of his. "I guarantee you its no use. She _is _going to meet old Nicholas Flamel and seduce him if necessary to get him to talk."

Did she just think she wasn't _that _ irritated by the man? Her mind was changed. He was most possibly the most annoying person alive.

Hermione glared at the infuriating man and then pointedly excluded him by turning her back to him and smiling particularly pleasantly at Harry. The smile probably hadn't been very pleasant because Harry grimaced.

"Harry" Her voice was loud and clear and while the person-in-question gestured frantically at her to lower her voice. "Did you happen to notice Nicholas Flamel anywhere?"

Harry gave her a strange look, a little bit of both a glare and exasperation. "I saw him come through the gates and enter the private lounge just ten minutes ago."

She smiled; Harry's head slumped on the bar loudly.

Just then, by instinct, she turned towards the door that Harry had pointed out and saw the very man she had been searching for the entire time. Her feet moved of their own accord towards the enigmatic Nicholas Flamel: the answer to her demons and, it seemed, to the world's.

Draco understood the moment he saw her face go slack and the glint of determination in her eyes was replaced by one of wonder. As if in a spell, she started towards a group of distinguished looking men. Her stride was a tad uncertain, as if she wasn't sure if she would be a welcome interruption but was, nevertheless compelled to interrupt. He could have stopped her but he was a little too surprised by her very un-Hermione Granger like reaction so he didn't even bother to try, content to look forward to the next moments. Well look and move forward towards the group too. He did so, a few discreet steps behind Granger.

He watched as Granger stopped a little away from the group and composed herself, her professional mask sliding firmly over her rather awed face and then reached out a take a glass of shimmering champagne. Then she started the maneuver and as Draco watched, she introduced herself with just the right amount of charm smiling at the-now he saw- rather older group. Draco shuffled closer as elegantly as her could-if one could elegantly shuffle. He saw her turn around and say something as if she wanted to point out something to her audience and those dark, shrewd eyes scanned till the found him and to his never-ending surprise the charming smile bloomed rather…_brilliantly?_ Draco blinked and then remembered his bent posture due to shuffling when she threw him an odd look through the smile. He straightened immediately.

"There you are, _Draco_"

Draco went a little stock-still for a moment at the registration of his first name through Granger's lips and in that nanosecond remembered that they _were_ quite married so it was suppose to be only natural—except that it felt anything but. He smiled, a charismatic trick of lips, and approached the circle. His eyes were ruthlessly sizing up the bunch of- he could tell- elitist snobs for a man whose appearance would scream _Nicholas Flamel_ or any telltale signs from Granger's body language. Damn but the woman was good; she didn't give away one thing and continued behaving as though this was a charming tea-party and she the host.

"This is Draco Malfoy, my husband." Granger introduced him, "He has just returned from establishing the American branch of Malfoy Pharmaceuticals."

She made it sound as if he'd actually _returned _– in the strictest meaning of the word- for good. He wasn't completely sure it was intentional or not.

"These are Malfoy Pharmaceutical, England board" And then she proceeded to rattle of some English names that even made his -An English man- head turn. _Too much America._

Nonetheless he shook hands and just basically kissed arse till he heard _those _words form her lips.

"All of _you_ should probably get better acquainted now that Draco has returned. After all the company is his responsibility.

" It was as if time stopped. He gaped at her for a moment before remembering _Malfoys do not gape. _He was much too intelligent to not feel the implication of her words and so were the old geezers he was surrounded by- he surmised because of the sudden heat of renewed interest in the stares. His vision blazed red at her audacity and his hands actually shook to stop himself from yanking that elegant coiffure and drag that vicious woman outside to shake her completely and _utterly _senseless.

But even in that kind of temper, Draco had enough of sense to know that said temper wasn't going to improve the prickly situation. With that he made a herculean effort to calm down and continue the polite, probing questions, keeping one eye of Granger's tense profile as se talked to the other man. Suddenly he remembered the purpose of her venture into this circle-_ Flamel_ . Mid-sentence Draco swiveled around to fully bask in the quietly powerful aura of the man Granger was talking to. The man didn't look like a Nicholas but there was absolutely no doubt that he was _the _Nicholas. All of a sudden his desire to humiliate Granger and meet a great man rolled into one and he mumbled an excuse much to focused on moving towards them.

"Excuse me" He politely interrupted the conversation, "Won't you introduce us, _Hermione?_"

And with that both men waited for her the introduction. Her smile, he noted triumphantly, was strained. It hadn't failed her notice that he was beyond furious with her at the moment. Smart, _smart Granger_.

"Draco, Nicholas Flamel" Her voice, however didn't indicate anything wrong. "Mr. Flamel-"

"Oh I quite know who the young man is," Mr. Flamel cut Hermione off "Delighted to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you."

He looked from Granger to himself no doubt privy to the underlying tenseness that had suddenly cut through the conversation. Polite men would excuse themselves. This man, however it seemed, was _not _a polite man. He smiled benignly yet somehow making his amusement painfully obvious.

"Charming wife you've got here Mr. Malfoy." He remarked to Draco nodding towards Granger. Draco knew, without even looking, that she bristled at being complimented on such a shallow level. Her smile was now nothing more than a stretch of lips over small, white teeth. Draco gave Mr. Flamel a man-to-man sort of smile just _knowing _she was close to spitting mad right now.

"There you are Nicholas!" A woman close to Nicholas Flamel's age-_at least the age he appeared to be_- declared with a surprisingly young voice. "I've been looking for you all over."

She walked over to them and slipped her hand through his while he smiled at her indulgently. Draco looked from him to her, both he and Granger waiting for Flamel to acquaint them with the female. But with no introduction forthcoming and Nicholas Flamel just sporting an amused smile the woman sighed and took upon being polite herself.

"Good evening" Her smile was nice; her eyes were smart. "I'm Perenelle Flamel, his wife"

Draco mumbled a polite greeting, stating his identity and heard Granger do so too before returning to the awkward silence. Perenelle curiously looked at all the his face, then Granger's face and then suspiciously at Flamel's face and then sighed blowing a wispy silver tendril that had fallen over.

"What have you been up to Nicholas?" Flamel tried to look innocent and failed considerably.

"_Me??"_ Possibly unaware of his failed performance "I was just conversing with the couple."

When she continued to look suspicious-Both Granger and himself, pointedly ignoring the couple and holding back amused chortles- he threw up his hands in the air.

"Must you always spoil my fun?" he asked her.

She nodded and smiled a tad smugly "I rather like to spoil your fun; it adds to my fun."

Her husband just scowled while her gray eyes sparkled with mirth.

"I apologize for my husband" she turned to them "It's just that when one has lived as long as we have one has to learn to take amusement in everything one can afford to."

From the corner of his eyes he saw Granger smile rather warmly at the woman.

"So Ms. Granger" Flamel started "Not to be offensive but I am rather under the impression that there is a reason you isolated me from my friends."

To her credit Granger didn't blush… or look ashamed or… bashful. For the love of Merlin did _nothing_ faze this woman? Draco belated wondered what kind of woman he was bound in Holy Matrimony to. It gave him a headache.

"As a matter of fact," she started to reply stopping Pernelle from stamping her husband in the foot--it was somewhat comical to see a five hundred plus year old couple fighting like middle-schoolers--for being so blunt "I did want to talk to you about something. Would you mind if the four of us go somewhere more private?"

Five minutes later they, including--to Draco's mild disgust-- the hideously scarred hero of the Wizarding world, found themselves ensconced in cushioned sofas in a large almost-empty private lounge. Ugly freak Potter, Draco generously thought, was trying his best to seem inconspicuous but--here Draco rolled his eyes-- was failing because Perenelle was gazing at him in ways that were sure to make Potter feel molested. Draco grinned maniacally at the uncomfortable expression on the bespectacled face and promptly stopped when Hermione looked at him like he was insane. He glared at her; he hadn't forgotten. _He hadn't forgotten._ She stared him down not even the least bit uncomfortable, which was a good enough reason for Draco to clench his jaw and vow dramatically for revenge. Mentally, of course.

Granger took a delicate sip of her drink and set it back down, preparing to start on her mission. Draco, as mad as he was, was smart enough to know that the next few minutes would give him a keen insight into how she conducted business affairs. He was more than a bit interested to know he she stayed at the top of her game.

"Mr. Flamel," she began with quiet confidence "would you be willing to share the process of creating the Philosopher's stone with me?"

From a distance Draco heard a choking noise. _Probably Potter._

A gasp. _Probably Prenelle Flamel._

A snort. Probably _him._

Surprisingly enough both Granger and the old man Nicholas seemed to avoiding the other three people included in their little assemblage. In fact they were having a staring contest. While initially, the man-in-question was a teensy bit surprised, the look had been swiftly replace by amused. The spectators- himself, the wife and scra face- looked rapidly alternating from cool Granger to amused Flamel, as if they were watching a tennis match.

"That's quite a request Ms. Granger," Flamel said at last. "Would you care to explain why? I mean you," he shot a meaningful look at Potter "should know of all the reason why this would be-excuse my understatement-bad idea."

Draco was confused. _What did any of this have to do with Potter?_

"I AM aware but I'm also aware of the other this, besides immortality, that the stone has to offer." Granger replied. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, the first clear sign of restlessness. "Have you recently seen the news? Did you know that over the past two years there have strains of unidentified viruses breaking out all over Wizarding Britain?"

"You're a Pharmaceutical Giant with a collection of healers second to only that of ST. Mungos'. I'm sure you can find a cure. Why would you want to risk the potential rise of mass riots by something like the Philospher's stone."

"It is a risk, that's undeniable but to delve into research is risking the loss of many more victims, most of who are children. Do you think we haven't been trying? The numbers are still increasing. Right now the bouts are the outskirts of the city but how long do you think it would take to sweep into the city. The only way to stop it is to eliminate the source but at this point the source itself is unidentifiable." Granger wasn't cool any longer. It rang with intense conviction. "the spread of the disease is slow and it might naturally terminate itself before it reaches here. But what's to say it will? There is no wide scale panic because the victims seem to be disconnected and at different places but it won't be too long before the connection is publicly revealed. It is FATAL; there are deaths not as many as one would think but the rate is more than we are comfortable with."

"That is your ONLY reason?"

"No, of course not. Once we clear this pathway there are so many other illnesses, both Wizarding and Muggle that could be eliminated swiftly before it touches the life of others."

"You do know that by applying a cure that should not be naturally possible you could most possibly permanently alter the structure of the world?" Flamel asked. "If the world started relying on something like the philosopher's stone it would be safe to say that the duration of their life would be unnaturally prolonged, since both the stones curing abilities and life-giving abilities are co-related. The death toll would drastically decrease and the birth toll would remain the same: high"

"There would be limits to use of the stone, of course and it goes without saying that it wouldn't be open for public use."

"Do YOU decide its use? How would you do that? If you're thinking about saving the lives of people with incurable diseases would you, in good conscience let the people with diseases with a cure gone ineffective die?" His question was sharp and biting. "Isn't that a bit of an unfair power in your hands? Thos who die have to die…it's only natural."

"How can you talk about natural? You've lived for about seven hundred years; we have the power of doing magic; the biggest mass murderer of a century was felled by a one-year old boy and then killed by the same boy when he was seventeen all accordance to a prophecy. What ,about all this happenings that have dominated each of ourselves, seem natural? When it comes to things like age and power it's okay not to follow that natural order of things but when it comes to saving lives, the argument is your strongest?"

Intake of breath. _Potter._

Larger intake of breath. _Him._

Flamel let out a weary sigh. "My only point is: the line between feeling human and God-like when one has that power is very slim. My only question is how you would decide which illness is worst? What deserves saving? Surely, everyone on the verge of death can't be saved."

Granger looked away. "There are those who do deserve it."

It was a good five minutes before anyone spoke again.

Even if I wanted to I cannot help you." Flamel said looking at Granger. "However, it's not for the reasons you might think."

"So what reasons are they?" this time Draco asked the question.

"It took me years to collect my notes and finish my research on the complex alchemy of the stone." He told them. "I had to communicate with lots of famous personalities concerning alchemy, so my research was never a private matter. However all my work and data was locked down by Professor Dumbledore and myself after _the _incident. A few years ago I ventured into those locked places again."

Draco could almost hear the proverbial suspension of everyone's breaths.

"Everything was gone."

Author's Note:

I'm incredible sorry for the too-long wait. I had more than half of this chapter written two months ago but …things happened…And I just completely lost inspiration for the story. While my ideas for the story aren't raging in my head I have a vague idea of where the story is leading. I'm hoping that it'll come about as I go. To those of you who PM-ed me for updates, I will apologize again and thank you for taking the time to write to me. This chapter is dedicated to you. And hopefully, the next wait won't be this long…So long. Enjoy.

P.S If you have any ideas for alchemic recipes feel free to share.


End file.
